Hello Sherlock
by Sounds of War
Summary: Moriarty is playing a game that seems impossible to win. He makes Sherlock choose. John, or all of England.
1. The Game

Hello Sherlock. –JM

What do you want? –SH

You, of course. –JM

What do you want with me? –SH

Be with me Sherlock. –JM

No. –SH

Sherlock huffs and puts down his phone. He grabs his gun and fires a bit at the wall out of boredom.

"Sherlock!" Ms. Hudson exclaims, "I just got the wall fixed!"

"I'm going out. Tell John I'll be back soon." He says and grabs his scarf and coat.

"Where are you going?" She calls after him but, he doesn't answer. Sherlock hails down a cabbie but, is blown off. He rolls his eyes and begins to walk.

Baker Street was other wise empty besides an occasional car or two. The sky was cloudy and promised rain, he should hurry so he wouldn't get caught in it. He walks swiftly to an old abandoned train station out of town. He knew Moriarty would be there. Before he could open the door, his phone buzzes with a text from John.

Where are you? –JW

Out. –SH

Out where? –JW

Sherlock didn't answer. He pries open the old rusty doors, made to look like no one has been in recently but they couldn't trick Sherlock's observing eyes.

"Oh Sherlock, you found me." Moriarty speaks, stepping out of the shadows.

"Wasn't that difficult." Sherlock says blankly. He wanted to get right to the point.

"What do you want me for?"

"Myself." Jim smiles devilishly. Sherlock is taken aback.

"I have John." Sherlock scoffs.

"You can't 'love' Sherlock." Moriarty's smile fades.

"That makes you think I would ever 'love' you?"

"You won't. Rule the world with me Sherlock." He proposes.

"No one can rule the world."

"I didn't want to have to do this but…" he says and presses a button he held in his pocket.

"The game has begun Sherlock. Time to choose. John's life, or all of England." Moriarty says before the room goes black.

"MORIARTY!" Sherlock yells after him. The lights turn back on and the room is empty. He curses under his breathe and runs out. As he is running he texts John.

Are you okay? –SH

Yes why? And where the hell are you? –JW

Stay where you are. –SH

What's happening! –JW

Moriarty. –SH

He answers simply and puts it back in his pocket. When he reaches Backers Street he spots John outside, leaning against the building.

"Sherlock! What is happening!" John demands.

"We have to find him." Sherlock ignore his question.

"What is going on for Christ sakes!"

"We have to find Moriarty." He ignores once again, calling for a cab. It was there in under five minutes and by then John had given up tries to get information out of Sherlock. Sherlock's phone buzzes.

Have you decided yet Sherlock? –JM

I don't need to. –SH

He answers and puts the phone away.

"Where are we going Sherlock?" John asks, annoyed.

"Y-you have to get out of here."

"Why? What's wrong Sherlock?"

"Moriarty is playing a game I don't think we can win." He states and John falls silent.


	2. Searching

The drive far off, away from town.

"Where are we going Sherlock?" John asks.

"Away, so you are safe." Sherlock replies.

"What about you?" Sherlock doesn't respond. He didn't know what he was going to do. If he chose to save England, then they wouldn't find John and everything would be okay. But no, Moriarty is smart, they would find him. Sherlock puts his head in his hands.

"Sherlock?" John asks, putting his hand in his. John wasn't sure what to say, or how to help.

"Here." Sherlock says to the driver and he stops and they get out.

"Where is this?" John asks, not recognizing the little town.

"You ask so many questions John…" Sherlock says with a sad smile. He puts his hand on the back of John's neck and pulls him up to his lips. They kiss for a short time till Sherlock pulls away.

"I have to go." He says and starts to walk away.

"Sherlock!" John calls running after him.

"I don't even know where I am or if I am ever going to see you again!"

"Here, take my card. I'll be back." Sherlock smiles and gets back in the cab and drives away. John stares after the cab blankly, praying he would be okay.

Have you decided yet Sherlock? –JM

No. –SH

Hiding John won't save him. –JM

Don't touch him. –SH

What is your choice Sherlock? –JM

I'm not playing your game. –SH

You have till 8:00 A.M tomorrow. –JM

And that was it. At home, every hour, by the hour Sherlock texts John to make sure he is safe. Sherlock doesn't sleep; he tries to track Moriarty by his texts but is coming up short. In anger, Sherlock throws his computer.

He sits in a deep frustration and thinks, goes to his mind palace as he called it. Ideas ran rapid fire through Sherlock's advanced mind, names of places, what he knew or Moriarty, what he knew of himself even. He looks through the texts between Jim and himself, trying to analyze it for clues but, sadly coming up with nothing.

He stands up in a huff, completely ignoring the table and walks right over it. He grabs his beloved scarf and walks briskly out of the door, brushing past Miss Hudson.

"Where are you off to?" she asks, not knowing all of what was going on or even where John was. "Where is John? Sherlock what's going on?" She demands but once again, getting ignored. He continues to sprint down the stairs and out the door into the cold English night. He gets tired of waiting for a cab and runs down the slightly crowded street. He runs across one of the members of the "Homeless Network" as he called it.

"Spare Change?" the man gruffs.

"Not today." Sherlock answers passing him a piece of paper with the name Jim, Moriarty written on it. The man nods and Sherlock carries on with his sprint.

He hated to resort to this. But he dialed his brother, Mycroft.

"Sherlock?" he answers in a surprised, "What is my pleasure to talk to you?" He laughs. Sherlock sighs into the receiver.

"It's Moriarty. All of England is in trouble Mycroft. So is John."

"Jim again?"

"Yes! I need your help…" he asks regretfully.

"Sherlock Holmes needing my help? What an honor."

"Cut it Mycroft. Can you?" he growls. Mycroft doesn't answer for a few seconds but responds with, "I can do what I can, what do you need to know?"

"Where he is."

"I'll do what I can." Mycroft answers and hangs up. Sherlock groans and leans against the wall of some abandoned building door which strangely gave way, making Sherlock fall right in.

He falls on his behind painfully and hits his head on the damp concrete floor.

"Hello Sherlock." Jim says from the darkness.


	3. The Meeting

Sherlock jumps up quickly, so quickly it made his head spin and hard to see very well.

"So how is John these days off out of the city? Is he doing well?" Jim smirks.

"He is doing well." Sherlock responds, brushing himself off.

"And you Sherlock? Are you well?"

"As well as I can be with you cause havoc all over England."

"So you enjoyed my little show for you?" he smiles smugly.

"Your little 'shows' are childish really." Sherlock rolls his eyes at the pathetic man.

"Childish? Don't you find it… intriguing?" he drawls.

"Not in the slightest. Amateur."

"Tell me the truth Sherlock; you love how I can make you dance like you do? You thrive off of the mystery of me? Don't you." He asks, though not as a question.

"You are quite easy to see. An open book as they say."

"Then who am I Sherlock."

"A boy with a criminal mind. Haunted with knowledge like myself. But don't know what to do with it. So you decide to play games with the big boys out of your league. You throw little fits when you don't win, and you never do, do you? Consulting Criminal? Honestly? Pathetic really. Just like to play games to get your jollies." Sherlock spits. Jim laughs, "You have me figured out! Oh no~! Sherlock Holmes has caught me!" He skips around in fake fear and nearly falls over laughing, tears tinge the corner of his eyes. Sherlock remains silent and lets Jim had his little "hit" Sherlock thought it was.

"No no no Sherlock." He recovers, getting quite close. Close enough Sherlock could smell his breathe. It smelled of mint and a hint of tea, it sickened him but he didn't back away and stood his ground.

"You know nothing about me." He breathes into Sherlock's face seriously.

"See, I know all about you and your beloved John Watson and you. I've always known about you Sherlock. Every last case, every last detail."

"Cases don't define me."

"Don't they?" He questions.

"Tell me they don't show how you think? How much you enjoy the mystery! The game in it! The race against time! You love to be smarter than everyone else. Makes you king. You love~ the power. Though, you like to be alone. 'You walk a lonely road' as they say. But John changed that, didn't he?" Moriarty purrs. Sherlock burns with frustration and anger. He wanted to shoot him right there, end all this madness. But it wouldn't. He knew that. He knew Moriarty had eyes and especially guns on John and himself if he did so. What was he to do?

"Well, enough for the flirting! Sadly, we don't have time for that, now do we? Tick tock, tick tock!" he chimes and steps away from Sherlock. "Have you decided?"

Sherlock had to think quickly, it was nearly dawn, nearly eight. He thinks frantically. England? Or the man he loved? If he chose England then John would be killed off instantly. But if he chose John, it would take a long time to take down England, wouldn't it? He did have a lot of connections!

"Tick Tock~" Jim sings.

"SHUT UP!" Sherlock yells angrily. Moriarty laughs as Sherlock thinks ferociously.

"I chose John." He finally says. Moriarty smiles and back into the darkness and doesn't say a word. Completely vanishes! Sherlock tries to follow quickly but it is no use.

Within seconds, the floor begins to shake and loud booms reach Sherlock's ears. He races outside to see many buildings aflame and screaming people running from crumbling homes. Sherlock looks around in utter fear. What had he just done!? Things starts to blur, he tries to blink his eyes to clear it away and it wouldn't do the trick. He feels woozy and started loosing feeling. The world tips before his eyes as he falls to the floor and things go black.

"Sherlock!" John's voice reaches his ears. Did Sherlock dream it all? Why was John there? He tries to speak but nothing comes out. He opens his eyes slowly but everything is blurry. Is that really John he saw? He can't be sure. Sounds like John.

The world around him starts to clear. That isn't John. Jim is hovering over him, a smile wide on his face.


	4. Snap

"Fun little trick, isn't it?" Moriarty questions, keeping his hands behind his back.

"What did you do to me…?" he asks firmly but only comes out a hoarse whisper. Jim didn't answer, he just smiles, sitting in a metal chair not to far away.

"Figure it out Holmes." He challenges. Sherlock searched his mind, it didn't take very long, and the answer was obvious.

"Drugs." He says simply, his strength coming back to him. Moriarty's laugh was shrill and rang in Sherlock's ears. It was like an annoying alarm clock you wished you could just shut off.

"Correct! It was quite entertaining to dance around like my little puppet." He drawls. Anger builds up in the consulting detective, he hated being out smarted and used. His eyes dart around, surveying his surroundings, looking for an exit or a distraction. Anxiety builds up in Sherlock as he came up with nothing. He tries to get up but stumbles back down groggily as the world spun around him. Jim continues to laugh and taunt him, making Sherlock infuriated.

"What do you want from me?!" Sherlock nearly screamed at the man who looked taken aback by the harshness in Sherlock's tone, though he recovered quickly.

"Whatever do you mean Sherlock? I think I have won; once and for all the Mighty Sherlock is stuck with no way of escaping. You can't think your way out of this one." Moriarty leans forward with an evil grins planted on his pale lips. Sherlock says nothing but wasn't about to give in, wasn't about to give up.

"Sherlock?" A familiar voice calls from the shadows.

"John?!" Sherlock calls back and finally found the strength to stand.

"Don't move Sherly." Jim giggles as a big bulky man who held John's hands behind his back and held a gun to his head.

"What are you going to do Sherlock?" The maniac calls with a laugh to match.

"Better think fast." He adds as the thug grabs one of John's hands and grabs a finger and starts to bend it back.

"No! Leave him alone! What do you want!?" Sherlock demands, frantic.

"I want you to guess." Jim tells him and leans back contently.

"I can't! Tell me and I'll do it!" Sherlock yells. John lets out a scream as the thug broke his index finger.

"Oopsie! Better hurry Sherlock, poor John only has ten fingers." Moriarty cackles. Sherlock begins to panic, not coming up with anything.

"I-I'll give you all the money I have! I'll give you anything!"

"Wrooonngg!" Moriarty sings and the thug snaps another one of John's fingers. John yells in pain but was clearly trying to keep quiet.

"I-I'll-I'll be with you!" Sherlock tries.

"Tempting, but no." he frowns. Snap, goes another one of John's fingers. Before he could realize, Sherlock's eyes started to tear up and spill over.

"I'll stop solving!"

"Nope, no fun."

_Snap._

"I um, I'll… Commit a crime!"

"Hm, no."

_Snap._

"Oh no, looks like we have to go to the next hand!" Moriarty laughs. John was whimpering and begging in pain.

"I'll die!"

"We tried that." Moriarty frowns.

_Snap._

"I'll work with you!"

"Hm, sounds nice." Moriarty smiles finally.

"I'll do it! Just let him free!" Sherlock begs.

"I can't see why not." Jim shrugs and motions for the thug to let John go. He runs over to Sherlock and Sherlock catches him in a tight embrace, being careful of his broken fingers.

"But wait, how will I know you'll stay true to me?" Jim asks, and points a gun at John's skull.

"I will! I swear!" Sherlock says, putting John behind him.

"That isn't enough. How about a deal?" He proposes.

"Anything."

"Have I said that I enjoy seeing you desperate? I didn't even know you had feeling, dear Holmes." Moriarty marvels.

"Just tell me the deal!" Sherlock says, calm and collectively, but very very angry.

"If you betray me, I kill both of you." He grins.

"Fine." Sherlock spits.

"Sherlock! No!" John speaks up.

"Be quiet John." Sherlock tells him

"It's a deal, you may go." Moriarty smiles and the thug opens the door, revealing the cool English night outside. Sherlock hold John up as they stumble to the door. Sherlock felt nothing but empty. He didn't think, he didn't think what he would have to do. All he could think was John, getting him safe and far away from all this madness. He knew he couldn't see John anymore, and then, the pain started to seep in. He never felt pain before, hurt. He kept his face straight and unreadable. Emotionless. Like always.

Suddenly, John busts out of his grip and swings around with a gun in his hand. Where in the world did he get that from? He shot it, hitting Moriarty in the head and the thug as well. A strange click echoed through the empty building.

"What did you do!" Sherlock yells and grabs John wrist and runs as fast as he could away from the building and down the street. A huge bang shook the floor of Bakers Street as the building they were just in not moments ago, blew to bits. It most likely killed some people but as long as John was safe. That was all that mattered at a moment. They eventually stop running and Sherlock turns to John.

"Are you Mental!" He demands at the doctor.

"I saved us didn't I?" he shrugs, out of breath.

"God you're an idiot…" he sighs and hugs John tightly.


End file.
